Take a Sad Song and Make It Better
by darkforetold
Summary: Dean/Castiel. Dean says goodbye  7x17 .


"I need to say goodbye. Can't you just… wait?"

Dean stared at the nurse hard. She sighed softly and finally relented with a nod. "You only have a few minutes before we take him to therapy."

"Yeah, okay. That's all I need."

The nurse nodded again and eyed him warily before moving off down the hall. He watched her go if for no other reason than to give him enough time to mentally prepare for this. He and Sam needed to leave, get out of this hellhole, and get back on the road. The only thing left for him was to say goodbye. Dean didn't know when he could come back for Cas; after Dick Roman, before that—he didn't have any answers. He couldn't think straight. The only thing Dean could concentrate on was the sickening weight in his stomach. The notion of leaving Cas behind made him _ache_. Knowing that he couldn't help him, fix all this shit, made him _angry_.

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face and licked his lips nervously. Slowly, he turned toward Cas' room and looked inside. Cas was sitting on his bed, hands clasped, with a vacant look on his face. He looked so fucking _lost_ and _broken_ that Dean could barely keep it together. He swallowed the lump in his throat and steadied himself against the doorjamb, bracing himself against all the fucked up shit he was feeling right now. _Glad_ that he had his brother back. _Numb_ because he just lost Cas again. Despair, guilt… _everything, _all at the same time.

Dean shouldered the weight of it all and clenched his jaw. He was wasting time, prolonging the inevitable. He had to say goodbye. Tentatively, he walked further into the room. "Cas?"

Cas didn't react. His eyes were downcast, staring at nothing. Dean would give whatever he had to at this point to see them spark with recognition. Anger, hatred, happiness—anything. What Dean got instead was nothing. Cas didn't even look at him. His heart dropped into his gut.

With a sigh, Dean came closer and sank down in front of him. He watched Cas quietly, struggling to keep himself in check. He couldn't do this. Seeing his friend like this, near catatonic—it was too much. The regret and guilt nearly crippled him. Dean needed to do this now, get it over with, get the fuck outta here. He was drowning.

Dean coughed and cleared his throat. "Yeah, so, hey. I'm gonna get goin', okay? These people are gonna take good care of you."

Dean stalled. What else could he say? How does _anyone_ say goodbye? How could he possibly tell Cas how grateful he was? How much this whole thing fucking sucked? To leave him here, knowing that Lucifer was inside his head. There was _nothing_ he could say or do that would fix this.

Dean stopped trying to think. Instead, he did the only thing that had always helped him whenever he felt lost or hopeless, lonely or hurt. Like his Mom always used to do, Dean did it for Cas, hoping it'd get to him somewhere inside his tortured mind.

"_Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart. Then you can start to make it better_—"

"Sir?"

Dean choked back his singing and lowered his head. With every fiber of his being, he tried to keep his tears at bay. One slipped through and sped down his face. "_What?_"

"It's time for Emanuel to go to therapy."

Dean clenched his jaw. "Just one more minute."

"Sir."

"I said just one more fucking minute!"

Dean shot a glare over his shoulder and watched the nurse leave in a huff. With a frown, he turned back to look at Cas. "I'm gonna fix this, Cas. I don't care how or when—I'm gonna fix this. You just gotta stay here a little while, you hear me? I'm gonna come back for you."

Dean stood on his feet and gripped the angel's shoulder tight. "Bye, Cas."

Cas didn't respond.

Another tear slipped free. "Thanks.." Dean swallowed another lump in his throat. "Thanks for fixing my brother."

With that, Dean turned and left the room. He needed to escape, get away from all of this. His legs couldn't send him down the hall fast enough. He tried to forget it all; Cas' vacant stare, his own guilt. It haunted him, rattling in his brain, up until he saw a familiar face.

Meg.

Her smile was smug. Dean could only assume she was on her first interview for that nursing job, just like she said. The perfect ruse to keep an eye on Cas. To keep him _safe_. For whatever reason, seeing her lit an angry fire. He sped up and met her full on, throwing her against the wall, ignoring the shouts and gasps of surprise all around him. He was playing out his rage brought on by his own helplessness. It was the only way he knew how to cope. They had a deal, but Dean didn't care.

"If you _touch_ him, it will be the _last_ thing you ever fucking do."

Meg played the part well, gasping, eyes blown wide with shock. Still, beneath all that acting, Dean could still see the small quirk of that smug smile. After that, it was all a blur. Orderlies rushed in to separate them, Sam was there, trying to pry them off his brother. With a growl, Dean shoved the orderlies back and shrugged past them.

"Come on, Sam. Let's get the fuck out of here."

:::

Time was lost to him. He didn't know how long he had been here, how long Lucifer had been toying with him. It didn't matter. He would endure this torture for as long as he needed to, inching toward redemption one cruel trick at a time. This was his atonement for his sins; the merciless slaughter of his brothers and sisters, destroying humanity, hurting Sam Winchester. _Betraying_ Dean. This was his eternity and he welcomed it with open arms. He deserved nothing less.

From beyond the cloud of his mind, Castiel heard singing. It was beautiful, filling him with hope. Castiel looked for the source of it, knowing that the song was somehow familiar. There, at the door of his room, was Dean, singing those same words. The words of the nameless song that Castiel used to fight off the Devil, those same words that gave him comfort when he felt hopeless.

"_Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart. Then you can start to make it better_."

"Dean?"

"I told you I'd be back."

Castiel could feel his heart soar with elation. Without warning, Dean came at him quickly, grabbing him and pulling him in for a kiss. Overwhelmed, Castiel just stood there, reveling in the warmth of him. He was complete here in Dean's arms, safe from Lucifer, from Meg—_everything_. He was going to be all right.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

When Dean pushed him back to arms' length, it wasn't Dean anymore. It was Lucifer, grinning wide.

"Aw, dear brother." Lucifer oozed. ".. I think I found your weakness."

Castiel stumbled back, pressing himself against the wall. His own despair crushed him. Dean wasn't here. Dean was _never_ going to be here.

"We're going to have so much fun together, you and I. You, me and Dean. Happily. Ever. After."

Lucifer's laughter sent a chill racing down his spine.


End file.
